Having forwarded CWG’s Christmas Tree Tale to Dad, we started e-bantering about the time he drank Tree-Saver…
In the early 1990’s, we were owners of a treadmill. Dad would “run” (saying it that way because you don’t go anywhere on a treadmill) after work and then guzzle a gallon of water.
Knowing that you shouldn’t reuse containers for other then their original purpose, we did anyway. Next to the bottled 1-gallon jugs of water was a bottle labeled in thick black marker
DO NOT DRINK
written around the top of the jug.
One night, Dad hopped off the treadmill and walked into the kitchen.
He grabbed a bottle.
About halfway through the gallon, he realized that he had picked up the tree-saver and NOT regular water.
Chaos ensued and he’s on the phone to poison control.
Dad, smoosher of bugs, defender against lions under the bed, distracter at the dentist, manager of proper chromatic order of easter egg dye, FREAKED OUT.
Voice full of concern, he calmly talks to the operator on the other line.
Having explained the dilemma (“What should one do if they have ingested diluted tree-saver?”), the operator asks how old the ingestee is.
“Thirty-five” answers Dad.
And you could hear the laughter through the phone.
And you could hear the operator tell the other operator that she’s got a thirty-five-year-old who drank tree-saver.
And you hear one operator ask the other what she should tell him to do. “Tell him to call back if he sprouts!”
And from then on, we kept the tree-saver by the tree.
Dad, anything to add?